


barefoot

by hellhoundsprey



Series: spn kink bingo 2020 [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Barebacking, Bottom Kevin Tran, Domestic Bliss, M/M, Omega Kevin Tran, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Size Difference, Top Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: “I love it. How big you are.”spn kink bingo square 08: pregnancy kink
Relationships: Kevin Tran/Sam Winchester
Series: spn kink bingo 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602964
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	barefoot

The scent is what’ll make him cry, ultimately. When it will vanish from their home, when it will be just a faint memory.

Sam closes the door behind him as quietly as he can. Slips out of his sneakers and tiptoes into the living room—nobody’s here. He makes quick work of stowing away the groceries, gives Hera a quick pet and cuddle before he gestures at her to be quiet, “Shh,” and makes his very noiseless way over to the bedroom. Hera follows in blind love, tail wagging and all.

The TV is still running with the volume down low and Kevin’s sprawled careless and heavy, absolutely out for the count, and Sam has the heart to turn off whatever colorful anime Kevin’s tried to escape reality from while his alpha was out, working.

Sam crawls atop the bed as carefully as any six-feet-four two hundred pound guy possibly can.

So, Kevin inevitably stirs awake. Sam presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey. Hmm.”

Sam grins. “Hey.” More kisses. Kevin wrinkles his nose, yawns.

“What time is it?”

“Seven.”

“Oh, God.” Kevin allows himself to be kissed on the mouth, huffs. “I was out, like, half the day.”

“Poor baby.”

Kevin jokes, “Gotta get it while I still can, huh,” and Sam nods, snuggles in to push a hand down the covers, run it over the immense swell of that belly.

“She been giving you trouble?”

Kevin shakes his head, soft and stubborn. Still sleepy and so fucking warm, fuck. “A true angel.”

“Weird. You sure she’s mine?”

“Duh. Have you seen me? I’m a fat fucking hippo.” Sam gets his face grabbed, gets his mouth kissed. Smiles, stupid, hopeless. “Your giant baby, no fucking doubts.”

“I love it. How big you are.” Kevin makes a dismissive noise. “No, really. How is this not the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” Sam makes a show out of spanning his admittedly giant hand over Kevin’s even bigger belly. Proud, “I put that there,” and maybe Kev smells him getting hard or he just genuinely means it when he tells him, “You’re such a freak,” but Sam kisses him again nevertheless.

Gets his face cupped by those tiny-tiny hands and Kevin smells like him, their bond, their bed, their baby. Like the milk he’s getting ready, all the hormones fucking him up like crazy and yeah Sam’s a freak all right, but who fucking cares?

Honest, “I missed you,” and Kevin groans and Sam rubs at the swell of that belly and then lower, and his omega makes a faint noise like he maybe wants to tell him off, complain about himself being fat and disgusting and too heavy to move but of course Sam finds him wet, as per usual these days. A proxy. Sam’s mouth waters.

Kev mumbles, “Sam,” muffled against Sam’s mouth and tongue and with Sam slipping two huge fingers up his ass, easily, slick and waiting for him, always.

“This okay?” and Kev makes a face, scrunched little nose and his freshly buzzed hair looks so adorable on him, makes him appear slightly less rounded at least around the face and he announces once more, “Freak,” but hikes his little leg higher, just a tad, just as far as it will go with the new dimensions his body has blown up to these past couple of months.

Sam gets a hold of a tit and squeezes, and Kev whines sweet, already clenching and breathing heavy and Sam could just whip his dick out and get it in there, no fight, no hesitation. Not that Kev could deny him, heavy and helpless as he is right now.

Just another two weeks, max. Things will be so different, then. Maybe Sam’ll change his mind once reality with a newborn settles in, but right now, all he can think about is knocking his mate up again right away, as soon as fucking possible.

Neither of them ever truly cared about these stereotypical (as Kevin calls them: archaic) archetypes of the barefoot and pregnant omega, the strong working alpha. And Kev doesn’t exactly appear too happy, at least not now in the last stretch of his term where he’s basically unable to walk with how heavy he is with Sam’s child, but he’s fickle by nature anyway, complains just for the sake of it (Sam might be conditioning him, so blame it on him). And, Sam won’t tire of reminding him how: in the heat of a moment or five, he had agreed. That he wanted more, more of this, these months of growing Sam’s baby and his body changing and forming and accepting and God, Sam, I can’t stop, I’m so fucking horny all the time, is this normal, should I talk to my doc about this, is this bad for the baby?

Kev slurs, “Fuck me,” like Sam’s paying him, like he’s a stray little thing Sam picked out of the gutter and promised to take care of; as if it hadn’t been the other way around. Sam’s banging him out on three fingers and worms out of his jeans, finally, his head right here all day, with his mate, his nest, and finally he’s back, fucking finally. “Fuck, get in me, come on…!”

Sam’s O whimpers like he’s a virgin again all over. Like Sam forcing into him is impossible, like it won’t fit, like it’s a struggle. And, yeah, it kinda is.

Still so small, with the huge belly bearing down on him, but he’s so fucking wet, so slick and open like he’s heated and Sam bottoms out with a harsh slam of his hips, a whine from Kev, the entire blood-throb line of his cock buried in those pink-perfect guts, held and milked on and Kev keeps cursing, keeps mumbling sweet nothings while Sam starts giving it to him rough and fast, like they both need it.

Hera eventually leaves, upset by the creak of the bed, the rising voice of the omega.

Sam’s sweat flies freely; he can’t lean down as far as he wants, not with Kev’s belly in the way. Bumps into it with every move and doesn’t warn Kev of his knot. Kev startles once he feels it, though, tries to kick his legs and Sam holds him down with the most pitiful amount of strength and growls fucking satisfied once his knot catches, finally, and Kevin sobs, overwhelmed, and Sam grits, “Yeah, yeah, baby, come on,” because he can feel it, oh, he can.

Sam’s omega seizes underneath him, hard. As hard as he can with the added weight of his pregnancy, clamps down on Sam’s cock so hard Sam’s truly gotta dig his knees into the mattress to grind both of them through it, rock deep and deeper to make it good, make it blackout-worthy and yeah Kev truly splutters like he’s about to pass out, shaking and still coming and sobbing honest tears, crying for more, don’t fucking stop, don’t you dare fucking stop right now you asshole.

Once the worst is over, Sam detangles himself from his mate’s arms far enough that he can sit back on his haunches, cup both hands over Kev’s belly while he keeps rolling his hips, absent and deep and Kev’s soaked, head to toe, his little sleep shirt (it’s NOT a dress, Sam) all ruined and pushed up under his pits, his chin, and his poor little legs are splayed wide and open, just for Sam, Sam’s hunger, Sam’s knot and child.

“Fuck.” Sam groans, wipes his flat palm across his face. Feels Kev interlacing their fingers atop his stomach. “Let’s, uhm, let’s—I can reach my phone, I think. Order out. Fuck it.”

Weak, wrecked: “Pasta?”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

“Pasta.”

“You got it.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” Sam leans down to kiss Kevin’s waiting, wet mouth. Adds, “Both of you,” and Kevin chuckles all groggy, all destroyed.


End file.
